change of seasons
by this little heart of mine
Summary: "Don't you dare tell me you don't feel the same because I know you do and I'm not going to let us make the mistake of walking away from this again." / Cause our love ain't easy, it changes with seasons. Seddie.
1. Chapter 1

This plot bunny has been stuck in my head for a while now and I wanted to try writing a multi-chap fic again so here you go! Everything after iLY doesn't happen and characters are OOC.

Summary: "Don't you dare tell me you don't feel the same because I know you do and I'm not going to let us make the mistake of walking away from this again." / Cause our love ain't easy, it changes with seasons. Seddie.

Disclaimer: Last time I checked I wasn't Dan Schneider.

-0-0-0-

_Where we going I don't know, so baby won't you let it go?_

"Dude, seriously-"

"You're not even-"

"Guys!" Carly finally intervened. "For the last time, none of you are going to have another bet that would put you in danger or get you arrested! Now can we please get back to planning?"

Sam rolled her eyes and went through her index cards again while Freddie went back to updating the site. "Thank you! Now, we still have to choose a bit to replace Gibby's parrot with. Should we have the blue butt bit or the new George the bra bit?" Carly asked Sam.

"How about instead of using the blue butt we use Georgie?" The blonde suggested.

"Yeah, that'd be cool! Freddie, can we do that?" Carly asked their technical producer.

"Yeah, I'll just set the green screen tomorrow before the show," Freddie answered, putting it in his memo in case he forgot.

"Well okay, that's settled then. I'm going to head out, I promised Spencer that I'd help him set-up his sculpture at that new museum," Carly said, heading for the elevator.

"Can I stay the night? My mom just texted me saying she bought five bikinis," Sam shuddered.

"Sure. We'll be home late but there's pizza in the fridge. It's yours if you want it," Carly told her before pushing the close button.

Sam stands and walks over to Freddie. "So," she starts, fiddling with the wires on the cart. "Any plans tonight? No nerd shows to watch, galaxy quest or whatever lame chiz you do in your probably plenty spare time?"

"I am not going with you to set up fireworks in Ms. Briggs backyard if that's what you're asking," Freddie told her, typing away on his laptop.

"I wasn't going to," Sam defended and Freddie raised a brow in response, "yet."

Then why are you so interested in what I do in my spare time?" Freddie asked.

"I didn't say I was. I was just asking because Mr. Dunham is making us watch this documentary and I need someone to watch it with me."

"With you or for you?"

"Okay, okay fine. But seriously, if you're not going to watch it for me then at least help me not fall asleep through it," she huffed, walking around his cart.

"_Please?_" she asked, leaning on his shoulder.

Freddie rolled his eyes and looked at her, "_Fine_," he replied.

Sam grinned and headed out of the studio, telling him to load the documentary while she reheats the pizza. Freddie shook his head and smiled before closing his laptop.

Once the post-break-up awkwardness has worn off, he and Sam found themselves in a sort of in-between state. As much as he didn't understand it though, he knew it was for the best that they let it be for the time being.

He wouldn't want to jinx it.

"Hey, what happened to you? I've been waiting for you for like, five minutes already," Sam suddenly says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I just shut down my laptop," he answered, following her out the door.

"Well, you better hurry, that documentary's not going to play itself."

-0-0-0-

"So wait, they killed this Archduke guy and that started the First World War?" Sam asked.

"Yup but the real attempt to kill them didn't actually work; the bomb rolled off the back of the car and injured an officer. It was when they went to visit the officer that they were actually killed," Freddie explained.

"Well that's just tragic."

"Tell me about it," he answers. "Okay, so why does Mr. Dunham want you to watch this documentary?"

"I don't really know…"

"Sam-"

"Well, I stayed up the night before he assigned it to us! I was half-asleep for, like, the entire period," she said, "I think it was just for discussion but maybe he's going to make us write a paper about it and maybe a quiz."

"You might want to write notes though, just to make sure."

She guffawed. "Yeah, _okay_."

"I'm serious, Sam," he chuckled.

"I am, too. You don't actually think I'd write notes, do you?"

"Then why do you even bother watching this documentary?" he asked, pausing the video.

She rolls her eyes at him. "To know stuff, duh."

"That doesn't even—" he starts to argue.

"I don't actually have to know everything, just enough so I actually have _something _to work with," she says. "Now shut up and let me watch in peace, pillow."

Halfway through the documentary, a soft sigh escapes the blonde's lips and he looks down to see that she'd fallen asleep. He chuckles and reaches for the pen and notebook on the coffee table.

_Some things never change._


	2. Chapter 2

Heya. So I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed, followed and added this fic to their favourites. Really made me smile Heads up for everyone, I'm not really sure how often I will be updating this especially since I'm going to start college in a few days (wish me luck!). I just don't want you to be disappointed when I don't update regularly. Now that's out of the way, here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I'm a girl so that crosses out all possibilities.

-0-0-0-

"Hey wait up!"

Freddie looks back and waits for Sam to catch up with him. "I thought you were going to the mall with Carly?"

"She got held up in student government. "

"Ah," he replies, opening the passenger seat's door for her. He throws his bag in the backseat before hopping in. "Chili stop?"

She looks at him, "Do you have to ask?"

Two extra-large bowls of chili and three smoothies later, they were en route to Bushwell Plaza.

"You know, I've spent, like, three hundred dollars for your food _just _for this month. Maybe you should start paying for your own?"

"Yeah, okay, like I'll ever do that."

"What are you going to do when I stop paying for your food supplies then?"

"Punch you in the face. But we both know you'll never do that so your face's safe."

"Eh it was worth a shot."

-0-0-0-

"This or this?"

"Eh."

"How about the light pink one?"

"Hm."

"Should I wear a chicken suit instead?"

"Sure."

"Sam!" Carly calls out, throwing the light pink blazer at her best friend, "You're not listening!"

"I'm sorry! It's just that I _really _don't care," Sam drawls out.

"Well, you could at least help me! Toby's taking me out to a fancy restaurant and I want to look nice," Carly reasons. "C'mon, _please_?"

Sam playfully rolls her eyes and says, "Ugh, fine. That blazer looks really nice with those shoes."

Carly grins at her before putting the clothes aside. "Okay, so we have about an hour and a half before I need to get ready. We can go and shoot the blue butt bit and then go over the Big Girls bit."

"M'kay."

"Do you know where Freddie is? I texted him earlier but he didn't reply."

"He told me he went to a pottery class with his mom. I think he's home now, I'll just tell him to go to the studio."

Carly suspiciously looks at Sam- who was busy texting Freddie- then looks at her phone. Huh.

-0-0-0-

"And clear," Freddie says, putting down his camera.

"Okay, I'm going to go get ready or else I won't finish in time," Carly tells them, getting out of her costume.

"I thought Toby was going to pick you up at 8?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Sam and Freddie look at each other and laugh. "Dude, it's five-thirty."

"Well I need time to look nice, okay?! You just cost me five minutes!"

Once, she was sure she was out of earshot, Sam asks, "How long do you think it'll last?"

Freddie plops down beside her and starts editing.

"I'd say two weeks tops. All Toby ever wants to talk about is that stupid car of his."

"Well I'm guessing it'll last three days before he meets Mr. Cute Guy at the mall."

"Mr. Cute Guy, really?"

She playfully slaps his arm, "You know what I mean."

"Want to bet on it?"

"Loser has to buy smoothies?"

"_Please_, like I don't already buy you smoothies all the time."

"Fair. Then what do you suggest?"

Freddie contemplates for a while. "If I win, you go with me to MOHAI and if you win-"

"_When _I win."

"_If _you win," Freddie repeats, "I'll take you to that Zoo Tunes you won't stop talking about."

"Seems a little extreme. You sure you want to go with that?"

"Could be worse, besides, we shouldn't even be betting on how long Carly's relationship will last."

"If you say so."

"_Sam!_"

"And that's my cue," Sam says, standing up. "Oh and don't forget, you have to help me pick up our props on Friday."

"After school, got it," Freddie salutes, typing away on his laptop.

He looks up to make sure she's gone and opens his browser and reserves two tickets to Woodland Park Zoo.

Just in case.

-0-0-0-

Carly turns the light on in the living room and her two best friends stir awake.

"Hey."

Sam grabs the remote and pauses the movie. "Hey, how'd the date go?"

"Really good, actually. He's taking me to the movies tomorrow," Carly sighs and sits beside Sam.

"Wow, two consecutive dates and he's got you happy sighing. Must be a keeper," Sam jokes.

"Whatever," Carly giggles.

Sam turns to Freddie who gives a shrug. "Well I'm going to leave you two to your girl talk. My mom's going to be home in a few and she might freak out when I'm not in there."

"Good idea," Carly says, moving to open the door for him.

He pats Sam on the head and she swats him away. "Night, Freddie."

"Goodnight."

"Night, dork."

Carly closes the door and plops down beside Sam again.

"Okay, so Toby wants to take me to this theatre-"

"Wait, are we actually going to have a girl talk?"

* * *

AN: Okay, haha, so I actually searched for places in Seattle for their little bet.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're late."

"Blame it on Briggs," Sam says, buckling her seatbelt. "I swear that woman has it out for me."

"You could stop photoshopping her head on things."

Sam scoffs at Freddie. "That was one time! Besides, that was totally her fault, too. She's the one who needs to cool it."

"Whatever floats your boat," Freddie laughs, "and anyway, you could've texted me. I would've gone to get the props by myself, save us some time."

"Uh that's practically on the other side of town. You would have to go there then back to pick me up then to Bushwell."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you could catch a ride with someone else or take the bus or maybe, I don't know, walk home?"

"Now you're just being mean."

Freddie glances at her and laughs when he sees her pouting playfully at him.

"Aw, come on, you know I was just kidding," he teases, reaching over to pinch her cheeks.

She shoves him and he laughs louder, leaning back in his seat. "Whatever, man."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

She laughs this time. "Get over yourself, nub."

"You're no fun."

"Yeah, well it didn't suit you anyway."

He rolls his eyes at her and diverts his attention back on the road.

"So do you want to stop over for chili?"

"Did you really have to ask?"

-0-0-0-

"Sam, I think we're lost."

"We're not."

"We're in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure we didn't miss a turn?"

"Yes! Now shut up, I'm trying to remember Carly's directions."

"What do you – you mean you didn't even write it down?" Freddie sputtered.

"It was easy to remember!"

"Then where are we?"

Sam groans, "If you would just shut up, I'd remember!" She looks out the window again. "Okay, I think we make a left here."

"You think?"

"Dude –"

"I'm just saying –" Sam then punches him in the arm, quite hard. "I'll shut up now," he winces.

Sam smiles smugly at him and tells him to make another turn. "Now make a left on the third street and drive straight ahead. The storage's supposed to be at the end of the street."

Freddie still doubts that she actually knows where they're supposed to go but follows her directions anyway. After a few minutes of driving, they arrived at a dead-end and sure enough, the storage was there.

"See, I told you I knew where we were going," Sam said smugly, hopping out of the car. Freddie rolls his eyes and pulls his keys out of the ignition before following her to the storage.

She moves to open the door but Freddie grabs her arm, stopping her. Wait! Shouldn't we knock first or something?"

"Knocking is for polite people with time Freddie," she tells him, opening the door and stepping inside. "Hello? Jack, are you in here?" she calls out.

"Are you sure we're in the right place? It looks like –"

"I swear if you ask me that one more time I am going to grab your keys and leave you here. Jack?" she calls out again.

"Maybe he's not here. Let's just go back some other time."

"Unless you want Carly to kill us."

"It doesn't look like he's here, Sam. What else are we going to do?"

"Well we didn't drive here for two hours for nothing!" she says, "Why don't you just help me look for what we need?"

"Fine," Freddie answers, going around the room.

-0-0-0-

Sam was crouching at a low shelf when she heard footsteps.

"Freddie?"

There was no answer but she could hear the footsteps coming closer. She looks around and sees a crowbar. Grabbing it, she walks closer to the footsteps. "Who's there?"

She rounds a corner and jumps when he comes face-to-face with a man.

"What are you doing here?"

"Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I'm Sam; I'm here to pick up our props? Are you Jack?"

"Oh yeah, you're from that web show. Didn't mean to scare you, kid. I forgot you were coming today, I was at the grocery."

Just then Freddie reappears from the back of the room. "I couldn't find any- oh. Hi."

"Jack Miller, how you doing?" Jack asks.

Freddie shakes his hand and introduces himself as well. "Great, how are you? I'm Freddie Benson. Sorry if we just went in and touched your stuff. I told her we should wait but she's kind of impatient."

Sam elbows him and Jack laughs. "No problem. Now, I believe you're here to get your props?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, there are a few boxes but nothing too heavy," he says, "they're right here, follow me."

The two teens followed him to a closet where there were about five boxes. "This is it. Be careful about that box over there though, it's fragile. Do you need any help with moving?"

"No, I think we're fine, thank you."

"Well alright. If you need me, I'll be out in the back. Oh and you better hurry, I think a storms brewing," Jack warned them before heading out.

"Okay, I'll take this side and you go take the other side," Freddie instructs Sam.

"You don't think I'll actually carry one of those, do you?" Sam asks disbelievingly.

"Sam."

"But it takes so much effort!" Sam whines.

"Sam, come on, we need to get this stuff in my car. Jack said that there's going to be a storm and I don't want to be stuck in traffic when that happens."

"But I don't want to work!"

Freddie sighs, "Fine. How about we carry this out now and we can stop for ribs on the way home."

Sam suddenly perks up. "With extra barbecue sauce?"

"With extra barbecue sauce," Freddie assures her.

"Deal," Sam says, skipping over to Freddie.

-0-0-0-

"Can we go now?"

"We would've been gone now if you actually helped, you know," Freddie tells her as he struggles to get the fourth box out the door.

"Well, I got hungry. You know how I get when I'm hungry."

"Can you just help me with this?"

"Will I still get my ribs?"

"We're not going to have time for ribs if we don't get all of this to my car now!" Freddie exclaimed, putting down box.

"We had a deal!"

"You barely even helped!"

"Did too!"

Freddie splutters. "With the first box! You sat down and let me do all the work after!"

"I told you I got hungry!" Sam shouts, throwing her hands up.

Freddie takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. It was already getting late and he thinks there's been a drizzle already. Fighting wouldn't get them anywhere and knowing Sam, she wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Okay, look, it's already starting to get dark. Just carry that last box so we can get out of here. I'm sure that wouldn't be much work for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam retorts, crossing her arms.

"I – Nothing. Let's just go," he replies, picking up the box again.

Sam picks up the last box and zooms past him. "Whatever."

Freddie rolls his eyes at her. _Always so stubborn_.

He's finally able to get the box out of the house and he walks over to his car where a frowning Sam was waiting for him.

"Hurry up and open the trunk, dorkward."

He's about to retort but decides to shut up instead, pursing his lips. He didn't want to start another argument. He opens the trunk of his car and puts the box he was carrying in. He steps over so Sam can put the box she was carrying inside too.

"Okay, I arranged the boxes, you can put it –" Sam just tosses the box, causing its contents to spill out and walks over to the passenger side. "Sam!"

She turns around and glares at him "What now?"

Freddie gestures to the box. "You just tossed the box! Now everything's scattered –"

Sam cuts him off again, "I though you wanted to get out of here? Put it back in the box if you want, I'd help you but that might be _too much work for me_."

"I didn't mean that," he groans. "I was just tired, okay?"

Sam ignores him. "Come on; just help me put all of this in the box please? We'll go get ribs on the way, promise."

She rolls her eyes and walks to the back of the car. She starts to put the contents back in the box and Freddie does the same, glancing at her every once in a while.

"Crap." He looks at her and sees her holding her hand which looks to be bleeding.

"What's happened?" he asks moving closer to look at her hand. She turns away from him.

"Nothing."

"Sam –"

"I just cut my hand, it's nothing."

"You're bleeding."

"Gee, thanks, Sherlock."

He rolls his eyes. "Let me look at it, I've got a first aid in my glove compartment."

Sam sits at the hood of the car and waits for Freddie. He arrives with a first aid smaller than his mother's and stands in front of Sam.

"Give me your hand."

"I can do it myself, you know."

"I know. Now, give me your hand."

Sam finally gives in and holds out her hand. Freddie proceeds to inspect the cut. He figured it wasn't so deep and sprays disinfectant on it.

Sam hisses and glares at Freddie. "Sorry," he says sheepishly, looking up at her.

She huffs and looks away.

After bandaging her wound, Freddie tells Sam to wait inside the car while he finishes their task a while ago. Finally, Freddie gets in the car and looks at the sky.

"It's probably about to rain really hard, we might get stuck in traffic," he tells Sam, pulling out of the driveway.

"Great," she answers sarcastically, looking out of the window.

"You can't be mad at me forever," he says, glancing at her. She only sinks further in her seat and proceeds to look out the window.

Freddie sighs and shakes his head. He decides for a different tactic instead, "Do you still want to have those ribs?"

Sam looks at him pointedly and he looks back at the road. "Right."

* * *

This was getting pretty long but this chapter isn't over yet! Part two of this chapter is coming up haha. Can you guess how many times Freddie rolled his eyes? lol


	4. Chapter 4

As much as she'd hate to admit it, Freddie was right (not that she'd say it aloud, though). They weren't even far from Jack's storage when the heavy rain started to pour, making it hard to see where they were. It took them fifteen minutes before they were finally able to get back on the main road.

Even worse, by the time they were on the main road, traffic had already built up. They've been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now and Sam's fatcake supply is almost demolished. They were now looking for an exit so they could stop over for dinner.

Sam was now considering jumping out of the car especially since Mrs. Benson has found out that Freddie wasn't home and decided to call every five minutes.

"Mom, I'm fine – No! Why would I even –"

She rolls her eyes and goes back to banging her head against the window.

"Mom – Mom, I'm losing you – What? I can't hear you. Bye mom!" Freddie finally hangs up on her mother's probably fiftieth call that night and tosses his phone on the dashboard.

"She's probably called the police by now, telling them to clear a lane for me," he jokes.

He sighs when Sam ignores him. "You're going to have to talk to me sometime, Sam."

Sam only turns away from him.

Finally after what seemed like hours, Freddie sees an exit. "Okay, I know I promised you ribs but, I don't think we'd find a restaurant that serves ribs here. Maybe we can find a diner or something," he says.

"Whatever."

-0-0-0-

They've been driving around for a half hour when Freddie finally spots a diner. He parks across from it and reaches over in the backseat for his umbrella.

"Okay, wait there. I've got an umbrella we can –" he hears the door slam and sees Sam running over to the diner. He gets out quickly and chases after her.

He spots her at the booth next to the jukebox and he sits across from her. "Are you insane? Do you want to catch a cold or something?"

She looks at him over the menu she was holding, "You're such a nub, Freddie."

He scoffs. "Fine, but don't go asking me to make you soup tomorrow."

"Trust me, I won't," she tells him before blocking her face with the menu again.

A waitress goes to their booth a few minutes after and takes their order. Freddie orders a stack of pancakes and French fries while Sam goes and orders about half of the menu.

Sam immediately digs in once their order arrives and every once in a while reaches over to steal Freddie's fries. "You have your own, you know."

"Yeah, well I was promised ribs and I haven't eaten anything in like two hours. The least you could do is give me some of your fries," she tells him.

"So are you talking to me again?"

"Nope."

"Really now?" he chuckles amusedly.

She flicks a spoonful of ice cream on his face and guffaws when he cries in protest.

"Not a chance, Fredweeb."

-0-0-0-

"Now we really have to go. My mom just threatened to sue the police if I'm not home soon."

Sam slurps the last of her smoothie and slides out of the booth. "Yeah, Carly just texted me. She's getting worried, too."

Freddie leaves a fifty on the table before standing up as well.

The rain was still pounding and Sam was about to run out to Freddie's car but he grabbed her so they could share his umbrella.

"You're such a buzz kill, Benson."

"At least you won't get sick."

They were in the middle of the street when Sam suddenly elbows him and Freddie doubles over in pain.

"What is your problem?!" Freddie grunts, grabbing the umbrella that he dropped. He walks over to her but Sam backs away from him further. "Sam."

"What?" she laughs, spinning with her arms outstretched. "Come on, live a little, Benson," she calls out to him.

"You're going to have a raging fever tomorrow, I can feel it."

"You're just too chicken."

"I am not!" Freddie answers indignantly.

Sam turns and walks away from him. "Uh huh."

Freddie rolls his eyes and tries to catch up with her. "Sam, come on, we have to go."

"We're going to be stuck in traffic for a few more hours, why not just enjoy a little?"

"There are other ways to have fun without putting your health at risk, you know."

"Says your mom, speaking of, you're probably just scared she'd put you in some weird medication when she finds out you've been _playing in the rain_," Sam mocks.

"My mom does not put me in any weird medication of some sort."

Sam turns around only to bump into Freddie who has finally caught up with her. The impact almost causes her to fall but Freddie catches her, pulling her back up. She looks up at the umbrella that Freddie was now holding over both their heads and then looks at him.

"Then why are you so scared?" she taunts, smirking.

"My mom is going to have a heart attack," he mutters and finally gives in, dropping the umbrella beside him.

"Look out world, Fredward Benson's out in the rain, better hide your children" she teases.

"Very funny. You know Carly's going to have a fit once we get to Bushwell."

"That's why you're taking me home," she says, poking him.

"I don't think so."

"Testy now, are we? You know I could just beat you up until you give in."

"But then you won't have anyone to drive you home," he argues.

She rubs her chin thoughtfully, "Hm. Good point."

"Guess you're stuck with me."

"Not unless you catch me."

"Wha –"

He barely has time to react before Sam zooms past him, her hair whipping his face.

"Hey!"

He rolls his eyes and grabs his umbrella and runs after her.

-0-0-0-

He's trying not to panic, but he's this close to calling the police and strangling Sam. That is, if he actually knows where she is. He doesn't remember seeing so many streets and turns but then again, they were busy looking for a place to eat a while ago.

"Sam!" he calls out again. It's now close to ten and he's pretty sure his mom's had that heart attack now. If he doesn't find Sam now, they'd never be home by midnight.

"Sam!"

When there was still no response, he decides to find his way back to his car and drive around to look for Sam. It proved to be a more difficult task when the heavy downpour hasn't reduced one bit. After a few minutes of hopeless searching, he decides to ask directions. He finally finds his way and sees Sam waiting for him in front of the diner.

"Oh my god where have you been?" Sam exasperates.

"I got lost looking for you!"

"What?" Sam cries, cackling. "You cannot be serious."

"Oh yeah, sure, it's all funny when it happens to me," Freddie says sourly.

"No, no. I'm sorry," Sam says, trying to stifle her laughter, "It's just that – you got lost! You're supposed to be smart!"

Sam slaps her thigh and starts laughing all over again.

Freddie rolls her eyes at her and starts looking for his keys. "Let's see how funny it gets when I leave you here."

"Oh come on, I was kidding."

"Let's just go," he says tiredly.

"Hey," Sam starts, tugging on his sleeve, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have run."

"Yeah, I know, but we really need to go okay?" he says, slinging his arm on her shoulder.

"Okay. Are you okay though? I could drive if you want."

He laughs. "Yeah, that's not happening."

"Hey! I'm a good driver!"

"Keep telling yourself that," he tells her, looking ahead.

Sam scoffs and shoves him off. "You're such a jerk!"

"Whatever you say, Sammy," he says, putting his arm back around her.

-0-0-0-

"Sam, wake up. We're here."

Sam stirs and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She stretches once she's out and goes to the back of the car where Freddie was unloading the boxes.

"Do you want help with that?"

"No it's okay. I got this," he says, placing the last box on the cart.

Sam nods and follows Freddie to the lobby.

"What time is it?"

"A little after one."

"Your mom's going to explode," she chuckles.

"Tell me about it," he mumbles, pressing the eighth floor button on the elevator.

Sam leans on the wall and looks at the floor while Freddie taps on the cart's handle. Every once in a while Sam would glance at Freddie from the corner of her eye and Freddie would turn to face her as if to say something but decides not to at the last second and looks away again.

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Freddie rubs the back of his neck and faces Sam. "So," he starts, making Sam look at him. "Uh… today was –"

The elevator dings and somebody steps in while the two quickly move to opposite sides of the elevator.

"So," Freddie says once they were out of the elevator.

"_So_."

"Today was fun."

"You've got a very twisted version of fun, Frednerd."

"If I reckon correctly, _you _were the one who persuaded me to it."

"Oh yeah," she answers and they both laugh.

"But seriously, minus all the getting lost and the traffic, I sort of had fun."

"Me too," Sam answers stopping in front of Carly's door. "You should go inside. Your mom's probably gone into shock waiting for you."

Freddie laughs. "Yeah, I probably should."

As if on cue, the door to Freddie's apartment flies open and a fuming Mrs. Benson appeared.

"Fredward Benson! Do you know what time it is?!"

"_Mom_," Freddie groans.

"Don't sass me! I have spent _hours_ worrying about you! Do you know how many police stations I've called to look for you!"

"I told you –"

"And look at you! You're drenched! Fredward Benson, don't tell me you went out in the rain! You have an umbrella for a reason!"

Sam snickers behind Freddie and he turns to glare at her. Mrs. Benson gasps, "You were with this delinquent?!"

"Mom, she's not –"

Mrs. Benson drags Freddie by his collar while Sam tries to stifle her laughter.

"I will hear none of this! I'm giving you a tick bath and _lots_ of medicine so you won't get sick. My poor baby!"

"Mom!"

Sam cackles and moves to push the cart inside the Shay's apartment.

"Night, Freddie."

* * *

**Wow. This was even longer than the other part. I think I found my groove ;) heh. Anyway, things are moving along for this story so stay tuned! Okay, so there was supposed to be some big cliché thing in this chapter (see if you can guess!) but then it started getting long and then I didn't know where to put it in so I had to let go of it *tears* lol but I hope you like this chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

"So Gibby's birthday –"

Sam groans and Carly rolls her eyes at the blonde.

"Come on, Gibby wants us to be there."

"Doesn't mean I want to be there," Sam mumbles.

"GIbby's our friend –"

"Not really."

"– And he's really excited about this –"

"Well, I'm not."

"– He's been planning this party for, like, months now –"

"Who even cares?"

"– And it's only right that we celebrate his birthday with him," Carly finishes, completely ignoring Sam's complaints.

Sam rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to get out of this, am I?"

Carly smiles cheekily at her. "Nope. Now, about our costumes –"

"Oh no, no, no, no," Sam says, standing up, "I am _not_ wearing a costume."

"It's a costume party!"

"So?"

"You wear a costume to a costume party, Sam! Hence, the name!" Carly argues.

"Okay, first you force me into going and now you want me to wear a freaking costume?! What is this prison?"

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Whatever. I am not wearing some stupid costume and you can't make me."

"But I already have something in mind!" Carly whines, "Don't you even want to hear about it?"

"Nope."

At that moment, Freddie enters the studio with his laptop. "Knock, knock."

Carly grins slyly, an idea forming in her head. "Quick question."

"Shoot."

"Don't you think someone going to a _costume _party should wear a _costume_?" Carly asks innocently.

"Is this about Gibby's party?"

"Yes. Now answer the question."

Freddie shrugs. "I don't know, I mean, yeah, sure. It _is _a costume party after all."

"Aha!" Carly exclaims to which Sam rolls her eyes. "So you agree that Sam _should_ wear a costume!"

"And I'm out," Freddie says, heading for the door.

"No, wait!" Carly calls, dragging him by his shirt sleeve.

Freddie sighs, "Carly –"

"No, don't you think Sam should wear a costume to Gibby's costume party?" Carly asks, looking at him expectantly.

"Um," Freddie starts. Sam crosses her arms and smirks at him challengingly.

"I just realized I need to go, my mom is taking me to this doctor –"

"Ugh come on! Help me convince Sam that she _needs _to wear a costume. She'll be the only one not wearing one!"

Actually, Freddie had also decided not to wear a costume. He and Sam had both decided that it was Gibby and it wouldn't really matter. He averts his gaze and Sam's smirk grows bigger.

"Yeah, Freddie, convince me. I'm sure you have an _insanely_ geeky costume already prepared, after all," Sam taunts.

Freddie scowls at her before seeing Carly's expectant look again. "I – um – I actually," he gulps.

"Wait, you _are _going to wear a costume, right?" Carly says slowly.

"… No?"

"Wait, what?"

"I thought about it and decided that I won't put on a costume. I mean, it's not like Gibby would actually mind," he says sheepishly.

"Unbelievable!" Carly explains, throwing her hands up.

"Well, you know – I just thought it'd be ridiculous," Freddie reasons.

Carly scoffs. "Oh really now?" she asks, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. Sam watches the exchange and tries not to laugh at Freddie's panic.

Freddie quickly realizes his mistake and tries to appease the brunette. "Not that you wearing one would be! I meant me! I'd just look ridiculous if I wear one!"

Carly narrows her eyes at him, "Uh huh."

"Yeah! And you know my mom, if she finds out about it she's going to go into overboard and –"

"Whatever," Carly says, cutting him off, "I'm going to take a shower. I can't believe you two would go to a costume party and not even wear a costume!"

Freddie heaves a sigh of relief once the door closes and plops down on the beanbag chair.

"Nice going, Fredbag."

Freddie glares at her before opening his computer. "Yeah, well, thanks to you, Carly will now be plotting to get me into a costume to convince you into wearing one."

"Yeah, good luck with that," she says, clapping his shoulder.

"You're evil you know that?"

She looks back at him and grins. "I know."

-0-0-0-

"Help me."

Sam looks over at Freddie's disheveled appearance and chuckles. All day, he's been trying to avoid Carly who was still persistent on their costume dilemma.

"No offense Freddie, but that's kind of not my problem," Sam answers sarcastically, walking away.

Freddie follows after her. "It _kind of _is your problem!"

"Why? It's not like I told you to tell Carly that you're not wearing a costume."

"But you had let her corner me! Besides, you know if she somehow convinces me –"

"Which won't be very hard," Sam interjects.

Freddie glowers at her before continuing, "_If_ she somehow convinces me you know she'll start with you."

"But you know I'm also very persistent so there's a very high chance that she'll just give up," Sam counters. "Anyway, I have to go meet with Wendy. We're going to prank that teacher subbing Mackenzie."

"At least help me with Carly!"

"No problem, I got your back. Hey Carls!" Sam suddenly calls out. Freddie whips around to see Carly already making a beeline for them. He hears Sam offer him a good luck and turns back around to see already exiting the building.

"Sam!"

**Eugh. I'm not even going to start telling you how stressful college has been for me so far BUT I AM REALLY REALLY SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPDATE AND FOR THE LACKLUSTER QUALITY THAT IS THIS CHAPTER. **


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